Simple, Little, Insignificant Kisses
by Sunflowers In Moscow
Summary: Samifer / / Every night he had essentially done nothing but be as obnoxious and suggestive as was humanly (figure of speech) possible. There had been no mention of the apocalypse, Lucifer would just loudly and rudely change the topic of conversation - usually by aggressively coming onto Sam with the worst pick up lines the world had ever been graced with. / Written for mcsassbutt.


**_I don't own__ Supernatural_**.

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"Come on, Sam…"

Lucifer's voice had a very distinct whine to it, yet Sam did his best to ignore the fallen angel who had been invading his dreams for the past fortnight. He, while sitting on the conjured sofa, continued to read the book he was holding, a book he hadn't read before, and barely knew the title – and a book in which he didn't remember the last word he'd read, because you can't read something in a dream that you've never read before in real life.

And yet he kept reading.

Dreams. Typical.

"Sam…"

Lucifer's voice sounded much closer than it had previously, and he flinched, trying to prevent himself from turning around and giving the irritating man (angel, archangel, monster; Sam tried to force himself to remember this, but it's working less and less nowadays, and that's probably not a good thing) the attention he wanted. If Sam budged even the slightest bit, Lucifer would win. There's no such thing as giving that man (angel) an inch – he took leagues, and didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse. Not that Sam was looking for any, let's be honest here.

He may be deliberately annoying, as petulant as a misbehaving child and full of wicked smirks – but Lucifer was still Satan.

A fact Sam was becoming more and more prone to forget.

He steeled himself against any further irritations, and when nothing else happened over the course of a few minutes, he grew tense. Lucifer didn't give up. It just wasn't in his nature, so his silence could only really mean one thing – he was up to something.

To an outsider, it would probably seem strange how disturbed Sam was at the prospect that the devil might be plotting some nefarious scheme, but Sam was the one who had been interacting with him for the past two weeks. Every night he had come to Sam in his dreams, and had essentially done nothing but be as obnoxious and suggestive as was humanly (figure of speech) possible. There had been no mention of angels or vessels or the apocalypse despite Sam's attempts at angrily bringing up the subject. Lucifer would just loudly and rudely change the topic of conversation - usually by aggressively coming onto Sam with the worst pick up lines the world had ever been graced with.

And it usually worked, as Sam ended up blushing as deeply as he was now just thinking about it. He shouldn't feel shy thinking about such things, he was hardly sexually naive, but there was something about Lucifer that made him feel like an awkward teenager again. Not to mention that the advances were most definitely _not _welcome.

They _weren't_.

Thank God Dean didn't know about these visits.

He stared down at his book, no longer seeing the not-there words as he concentrated on trying to sense the wayward angel's presence. Nothing. The room was as silent as the grave (Sam tried not to dwell on how inappropriate that phrasing was), and there wasn't a single movement he could pinpoint.

He grew more and more anxious by the second as nothing happened, but he still stubbornly clung to the determination not to turn around. He wouldn't be the first to give in, no matter how stifled the atmosphere got.

The pale, soft hairs covering his back prickled and stood on end, and every so often a minute spasm would shoot down his spine, causing nearly undetectable jumps. Of course, Sam knew _he _would see them, and would probably be grinning his stupid face off, the smug bastard.

Sam's mouth devolved into a frown as he closed his book, and clenched his fingers around the cover. The tension was reaching untold heights, and as the seconds past, he began to scowl.

Lucifer really couldn't just leave him alone? Sam didn't deserve a few nights of peaceful sleep, to dwell miserably on the fact that he was probably going to end up Satan's onesie? Surely he was allowed to mourn the rest of his life-

His increasingly frustrated thoughts were cut off by a heavy body landing out of nowhere on his lap, causing his book to go flying across the room and him to let out a loud grunt. His arms wrapped around the angel on reflex before he could stop himself.

"You're pretty comfortable Sam – I should have landed on you when I first fell."

The words were spoken softly and pronounced precisely directly into his ear, and Sam couldn't suppress a shiver as the cold breath tickled his skin.

His mental functions began the poor and steady sink into the depths when he realised that there was a leg on each side of his waist, two hands gripping his shoulders and the most disturbing thing of all, a cheek rubbing itself against his own. His hands let go like he was holding a bare flame, and he said the first thing that popped into his mind.

"What are you, a cat?" He knew his eyes must be wide, and he was sure his nose was screwed up ever so slightly. Regardless, that peculiar scent of an electrical device that'd been plugged in too long floated up his nostrils. 'Ozone', his mind supplied helpfully.

He tried to focus on something else other than how fitting it seemed, and the borderline psychopath who was close to bouncing on his lap like an excited child (please no, something inside Sam said, if he kept that up things aren't going to end well).

A light chuckle vibrated from the chest pressed against his. Lucifer moved his head back and flicked his hair slightly, before shifting as if to get comfortable. If Sam had been a lesser man, he would have taken the innocent look for what it seemed – but he was not, so he let out a loud snort through his nose and glared for all he was worth.

"Stop moving."

The devious glint in the devil's dark blue eyes grew to a distinct sparkle, and a wicked grin drew up the corners of his mouth as he secured his hold on Sam's shoulders – because he tried to stand up, yet the combined force of the weight of Lucifer's vessel and his sheer power caused that attempt at freedom to crash and burn. Slowly, and never taking his eyes off Sam's own, he began to sway his hips from side to side.

Sam let out something that resembled a squeak, but it wasn't, because he was a man, and bit his lip. A small candle sparked to life in the back of his mind, screaming at him that this was _Satan_, that this was the creature who was threatening to end all human life and destroy everything that Sam held most dear, not to mention ride his ass until _doomsday_-

Lucifer gave a rough push before resuming his soft shifts and wrapping his arms around Sam's neck. The human was swept away in the horribly tempting sensations, the ones that made it so completely obvious how easy it was to be corrupted, to be twisted and warped by a masterful hand.

The voice was quashed under the subtle and brash persuasion of an expert in that very art, and Sam reluctantly allowed himself to be moulded and shaped into something satisfactory, something that was very nearly ready to be fired.

Sam had an ominous feeling Lucifer meant to be the kiln.

He swallowed deeply and his tongue darted out to lick his dry lips, not missing the way Lucifer's eyes viciously snapped to his appendage with a look that made him concerned that if he left it out of his mouth for a millisecond longer, it would be accosted or bitten off.

"W-what do you want?"

Lucifer chuckled once more, and shook his head, before closing in once more and brushing his nose to Sam's.

"What do you think, Sam? Nothing big…"

He balanced himself on his knees above Sam and his hands began to crawl up from Sam's broad shoulders to caress the skin of his neck which was slightly rough with new stubble.

"Nothing imposing…"

His fingers sent shocks shooting through Sam's frayed nerves, and he couldn't move. He tried, but he just _couldn't_ force himself.

"Just one simple…"

Sam could now feel Lucifer's chest heaving against his own, and the continuous waving of his hips had caused a more significant reaction that he knew would have more significant consequences by the time he had to wake up.

"Little..."

This was going to change things Sam knew should never be changed, but he couldn't for the life of him even think about stopping it. His dazed eyes locked onto those moving, pillowed lips, and he was entranced.

"Insignificant..."

He could feel them sharing the moisture of their breath, he could feel the air Lucifer breathed rushing down his lungs in turn.

He couldn't cope with thi-

"Kiss."

Lucifer's lips collided violently with Sam's, nipping and biting at the fleshy skin, causing his lips to bloom red, as if he was wearing colouring. Sam made a slightly pained noise, his tender lips beginning to ache under the relentless assault, and yet he responded in kind, pushing his tongue into the devil's mouth without permission.

He groaned when Lucifer allowed it, sweeping his own tongue along Sam's and twisting it in ways he could barely comprehend. It took him a moment, but when he did, however, he broke the kiss abruptly, pushing hard on Lucifer's chest and looking at him in disbelief.

"Your tongue is actually forked?"

He didn't have time to process Lucifer rolling his eyes, nor the victorious smirk that he wore with pride.

"Shut up, Sam."

Two hands weaved themselves into Sam's hair and tugged - and a cold but inviting mouth resumed trying to consume him, one simple, little, insignificant kiss at a time.

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**Written for mcsassbutt on Tumblr, also known on here as the lovely TGyamiBakura! Check out her stories!**

**The original prompt? ****"LuciferxSam. Lucy seduces Sam into kissing him (Sam is reluctant)"**

**It was supposed to be a drabble too! See what you do to me, you evil woman! **

**So much Samifer! So, so much Samifer... **

**Reviews are appreciated, loved, cherished and worshipped!**


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